The Sorrow of the Iron Throne
by Moongirl22
Summary: This is the world of Westeros but not as you know it. This is a world where the women rule, follow Elaine Stark as she is summoned to Queens Landing to server as the Hand of the Queen to her dear friend Rebecca. Plots, schemes, twists and turns await all who dare to play the game of thrones. (Takes form both the show and books)
1. Elaine

**Hello everyone :) So here we go with a new fanfiction. This one is a twist on GRRM world of Westeros. I got the idea after seeing a post on pintrest about what if the world of ice and fire was a matriarchy. While I didn't totally love the ideas that were put up in that version it got me think about what Westeros would be like if it was woman who ruled instead of men. To do this most of the characters have been gender swapped with a few exceptions, also the matriarchy system only applies to Westeros Essos is still a male dominate society. There will be changes to characters as well due to the gender switches and some new plots as well. I will try to update this every few weeks or so but I'm really busy with two jobs this summer and The Journey to Erebor comic I'm currently doing on Deviant art (please check it out). So without any further ado please enjoy the first chapter of The Sorrow of the Iron Throne.**

Elaine Stark sat in the high seat of the great hall of Winterfell listening to the land dispute between two of the minor ladies that paid her homage. Maester Louis' quill scratch away across the parchment taking down notes of what each woman had to say. After the haggered old crone finished her claim Elaine stood. Her dark brown hair tumbled over one shoulder bound in a thick braid. She stood tall in her fortieth year of life, Elaine was still a powerful warrior standing nearly six feet tall and strongly built as most high born ladies were. From the time she could walk she had been trained with sword and lance, to fight and die for her family but never to rule. That path had been meant for her elder sister Briana, she had truly been the one that was destined to rule. She was Strong, beautiful, and all the people of the north loved her. That had all changed the day they meet their fate by the mad queen who had executed both her mother and sister.

"I have heard you cases and will make my decision on the marrow." Elaine said in a commanding voice. Both woman bowed to her murmuring thanks and walked from the hall. They had been the last audience of the day that she had to attend to and she was glad of it to be over. Elaine looked to her daughter Becca who sat on the right hand of the high seat. Becca stood nearly of a height with her mother though her features spoke of her father's Tully ancestry. Her hair was a mass of auburn red waves that was tied up in a long braid like Elaine's and her eyes where the clear blue of a summer sky. Becca was a fierce fighter and had a mind for battle but she was also kind and listened to those around her. On top of all the rest she was beautiful and would have no trouble finding a good match for her husband. She was as worthy an heir as Elaine could have hoped for. Becca had been attending her mother's meeting for the last eight years now in order for her to be properly groomed to be Lady of Winterfell she must learn what it means to rule.

"How would you end this dispute Becca?" Elaine asked her gently. She wanted to see how Becca would handle the conflict. Becca stood for a moment. Thinking. As Becca mulled over the conflict Elaine looked about the great hall. The long banners of house Stark hung across the walls, the grey dire wolf snarling against a white field. Torches glowed in their wall sconces and fires crackled deep within the hearths. Elaine thought back to when she had been a girl playing with her sisters and brother in this very hall. How different things had been then, she had never thought to be Lady of Winterfell and Wardness of the North back on those carefree days yet fate had played its hand and here she was grooming her daughter to rule after her.

"I'm not sure Mother." Becca responded softly, her eyes were fixed on her leather boots not wanting to meet her mother's eyes. Elaine placed a hand on her shoulder so Becca would look up at her.

"There is nothing wrong with that my girl. A good lady knows what she does and what she doesn't. There is no shame in seeking council." Becca gave her a quick nod. "Now go find your siblings they are probably waiting for you in the yard." Becca beamed and strode from the hall. Maester Louis had gathered her papers and shuffled over to Elaine by then, the thick chain that was about her neck clinking softly.

"Another day of the long summer done." The old woman said in a kindly voice. Elaine smiled down at the gray haired crone. Maester Louis had come to Winterfell when Elaine had been only a girl. Back then Louis had taught her sums and reading and as the years went past she offered advice and tended to Elaine's wounds and when the time had come helped her bring her five true born children into the world.

"Yes another day, done but Winter is Coming." The words of her house, they always rang true no matter the season. The summer they were in had lasted for nearly nine years now and seemed that the end was near. This troubled Elaine for a long summer usually meant an even longer winter and winters in the north were never easy. She thought of the farmers in the field as well as the lords and ladies beneath her. They were all fiercely loyal to her and in turn she swore to protect them, the smaller houses had always been like family to her. For the last five years they had been taking a piece of every harvest and putting it away for winter but would it be enough.

"Yes my lady winter is coming, it is always coming." Louis replied before nodding her head respectively and headed out of the hall towards the Maesters tower. Elaine walked from the hall and only when she was alone did she let out a sigh of frustration. Every day there was some new problem, some petty dispute between this lady or that, a poacher caught in the wolfs wood, or some other problem that only the gods knew of would rear its ugly head.

"Did you have a long day my love?" Came a deep voice from down the hall. Elaine looked up to see her husband striding towards her. He was still as handsome as the day they had wed. His auburn hair fell to his shoulders and his short cropped beard was speckled with gray. Elaine stood of a height with her husband as was common for highborn girls to. She remembered on the day that they had wed how handsome he had looked standing in the gods wood beneath the heart tree. Though Caden kept the seven he had been willing to honor the Stark traditions and be wed in the sight of the old gods.

"No worse than the day before." Elaine said to Caden with a smile. Caden returned the smile and offered her his arm. Elaine took it gladly. They walked down the halls together towards the yard where their children would be training. When they reached the yard they saw all five of their children standing there. Becca was showing Bri who was ten some tips for shooting a bow, Thyra Greyjoy stood beside them a bow slung across her back. The Greyjoy girl had been Elaine's ward and hostage for the last ten years, since her mother rebellion had failed. Bri was a ball of energy always running off to some adventure and climbing always climbing. No matter how many times Caden scolded her she would inevitably be found on the broken tower or running across the walls of Winterfell. Arron, twelve, was showing Rhianna the youngest at six how to hold a sword properly. Rhianna was still so young but Elaine could tell that she had the wolfs blood in her like Briana had. Arron was a little spitfire and clashed more often than not with Sanford. Sanford fourteen stayed off the side more interested reading to himself and ignoring the general proceedings. He had never been much for sword play preferring to play a harp and sing over fighting in the muck. All of Elaine and Caden's children had the father's Tully features of auburn hair, fair skin, and blue eyes, all except Arron who reminded Elaine of her own dear bother Landon. Arron and Joanna that was, looked like true Starks. Joanna was nine months younger than Becca and a Snow, bastard half-sister to the rest of the Stark children. Though Joanna and Becca were of an age they could not have been more different. They stood of a height but while Becca was fair Joanna was dark, Becca was long and lean while Joanna was more thickly built.

Elaine knew what Caden thought of the girl, he had never hidden his disdain for her even from the time she was a babe. When the rebellion had been won Elaine came home with a babe in her arms. A bastard from the war, she knew that Caden would protest bringing the girl into their home to be raised among their own children but Elaine would not turn the babe out. She was her blood even if the girl did not bare her name. Bri shot an arrow at the target but the arrow went wide missing the target completely and disappeared over the wall. Becca, Joanna, and Thyra all laughed at Bri's mistake.

"And which one of you was a marksman at ten?" Elaine chastised the older girls mockingly. They looked at her in surprise with their smiles fading away. "Keep practicing Bri." She added with a reassuring smile. Her children were her pride and joy and love watching them train. To see them grow in their skill and become the ladies and lords she hoped they would someday be. Arron let an arrow fly then striking the target dead center. Bri, who had been taking aim, reddened at being shown up by her big brother. Though Arron was no bigger than her and began to chase him around the yard. Becca and Joanna laughed and cheered Bri on to run faster. Caden and Elaine both chuckled at their children's mischief when white haired master at arms Rodrik Cassel came striding over with Thyra Greyjoy in toe.

"Lady Stark," He said formally, "A guard just came riding in from the hills. They've captured a deserter from the nights watch." Elaine felt her heart skin at the news, she knew what her duty was though it gave her no pleasure. Deserters were dealt with in one way and everyone in the realms knew it.

"Very well, tell the girls to saddle their horses." Elaine instructed Thyra. "And tell Bri she's coming too." Elaine said sternly to Rodrik. He nodded and took his leave to make ready for their journey.

"Elaine," Caden said in surprise, "ten is too young to see such things." Elaine looked to her husband knowing that he meant no harm but Bri was a Stark and needed to learn their ways. Elaine placed a hand on Caden's shoulder and spoke,

"She won't be a girl forever and Winter is Coming."


	2. Bri

They had road from Winterfell to the edge of a small holdfast. There had been twenty in all who had come from Winterfell to see the deserter beheaded. They stood in just behold the holdfast walls next to a great Iron Wood stump where the execution was going to take place. Bri was nervous to say the least. She was finally of the age at which she could accompany them to see the Queen's justice done. Bri sat tall on her pony between Becca and Joanna on their horses as the prisoner was dragged before her lady mother. He was a scrawny young man not much past twenty with one ear missing from frostbite. His clothes were all black every last stich, the sign of one who has taken the black. Her lady mother asked the prisoner question to which he answered dutifully. Bri watched her mother closely the entire time. Her steel grey eyes looked grim about her stern face. Her jaw held loosely to show neither joy nor sorrow just a cold desperation to be done with the task ahead. She looked so different from the woman who would sit with her children in the evenings by the fire and softly tell them stories of the age of hero's and the children of the forest. She's taken off mothers face, Bri thought, and put on Lady Stark's face. Bri felt her nerves grow dull as Lady Elaine Stark called for "Ice", Thyra Greyjoy brought forth the great Valaryian steel blade of House Stark. When the blade was pulled from its wolf skin sheath the dark spell forged steel glistened in the light and rippled with a thousand folds, every movement of the swords shown in the pale of the sky's light .The sword was as broad as a man's hand and stood taller than Becca. The deserter was forced to his knees in front of a great iron wood stump. Lady Elaine placed her hands on the cross guard of Ice and spoke,

"In the name of Rebecca of the House Bratheon, First of her Name, Queen of the Andals the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm. I, Elaine Stark Lady of Winterfell and Warndeness of the North sentence you to die." Bri felt her heart pounding in her chest as her mother moved into position beside the prisoner.

"Don't look away." Joanna whispered softly down to her, "Mother will know if you do." Bri did not look away as Lady Elaine lifted the sword above her head and brought it down in one clean stroke. The man's head rolled away from his body as blood rushed from his neck staining the snow red as summer wine. Bri couldn't seem to look away from the blood stained snow as the head bounced off the ground towards Greyjoy's feet. Thyra was a lean dark girl of twenty and found everything amusing. She laughed and kicked the head away.

"Ass." Joanna hissed low enough that Thyra would not hear her. She placed a hand on Bri's shoulder, Bri looked up at her bastard sister. "You did well." Joanna said solemnly, she was eighteen and had seen the act of justice be done a multitude of times throughout her years. Bri couldn't seem to take her eyes away from the blood till Becca ruffled her hair playfully.

"Come one Bri let's go home." The ride back to Winterfell seemed longer and colder than the ride to the execution. Bri pulled her fur trimmed cloak about her a bit tighter as her pony trotted along struggling to keep up with her sisters horses. They rode well ahead of the main column, Joanna and Becca chatted idly for a time till Becca challenged Joanna to race to the bridge.

"Done." Joanna said as she put her heels into her horse and bolted away. Becca cursed and gave chase. They bolted down the trail with their horses kicking up the last summer snows, Becca laughing and hooting while Joanna was silent and intent. Bri did not bother to give chase there was no way her little pony would match their horses. She did allow her pony to slow to a walk. Soon Becca's laughter died away and the woods returned to their silence. Bri was so deep in thought she didn't even hear the rest of the party catch up to her till her mother rode alongside her.

"Are you well, Bri?" She asked in a kind voice.

"Yes, Mother," Bri told her. She looked up to her mother. Wrapped in furs and leathers astride her great war horse, her lady mother looked like a goddess of old looming above her.

"Do you understand why I did it?" She asked in a gentle voice.

"He was a desert." Bri responded in a sure voice. Joanna had told her why the execution was going to take place when they left Winterfell.

"Yes that is true, no man is a dangerous as an oath breaker. A deserter knows his life is forfeit if his is captured, so he will not flinch from the crime no matter how horrible. But you misunderstand. I did not ask why the man had to die but why _I_ was the one to do it." Bri puzzled over this for a moment but had no answer.

"Queen Rebecca has a headsman." She answered softly uncertain of what her mother would say.

"Aye she does." she admitted, "As the Targaryen Queens did before her but our way is older still. The blood of the First Men flows through our veins and we hold to the belief that the woman who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you take someone's life you owe it to them to look into their eyes and hear their final words. And if you cannot do that then perhaps they do not deserve to die.

"One day Bri you will be Lady of a holdfast and bannerman to Becca. And when those days come my girl justice of the queen will come to you. But always remember you must take no pleasure in this task but neither must you look away. A ruler who hides behind a paid executioner soon forgets what death is."

Just then Joanna reappeared from a bend in the road and shouted. " _Mother, Bri, come quick! See what Becca and I have found!"_ and the disappeared back around the bend.

Ser Rodrik rode up then, "Trouble my lady?"

"Without a doubt," her lady mother said. "Come let's see what mischief my daughters have turned up now." With that she urged her horse into a trot with Bri, Ser Rodrik and the rest coming along behind her.

The girls stood on the north side of the bridge. The summer snows had been thick in the last moon turn and Becca was knee deep in white snow with something cradled gently in her arms. Her hood was pushed back and her long auburn hair was shining in the sun, while Joanna stayed mounted on her horse. The girls spoke in hushed excited voices as the rest of the party drew up.

The riders moved carefully threw the snows, searching for solid footing that lay hidden beneath the snows. Ser Rodrick and Thyra Greyjoy were the first to reach the girls. Greyjoy had been laughing and joking when Bri heard the breath go out of her.

"Gods" Thyra exclaimed as she struggled to keep her horse under control as she reached for her sword.

Ser Rodrik already had his sword out, "Becca get away from it!" He called as his horse reared under him.

Becca smiled looking up from the bundle in her arms. "Don't fret Ser Rodrik she can't hurt you," she said. "She's dead." At this point Bri was twitching in the saddle with curiosity. She would have spurred her pony on but her mother made them dismount and continue on foot. Bri leapt from her pony and ran ahead or ran as well as she could being nearly waist deep in snow.

By then Joanna, Thyra, and Ser Rodrik had all dismounted. "Gods what is seven hells is that?" Greyjoy was saying.

"A wolf." Becca told him.

"A freak you mean. Look at the _size_ of it." Greyjoy said. Bri's heart felt like it was going to burst from her chest as she drug herself to her sister through the waist deep drifts. There she saw it. Half buried in blood stained snow a massive black and gray beast slumped in death. The smell of corruption clung to the beast as faint as a woman's perfume. Ice had matted the thick gray fur. Bri could see maggots crawling across blind eyes and long yellowed teeth but it was the size that made her gasp. It was bigger than her pony and twice as large as the largest hound in her mother's kennel.

"It's no freak." Joanna said calmly. "It's a direwolf, they grow larger than the other kind."

"There hasn't been a direwolf seen south of the wall in two hundred years." Thyra protested.

"I see one now." Joanna replied. That was when Bri tore her eyes away from the monstrous beast to look at the bundle in Becca's arms. She let out a squeal of delight and moved forward. The pup was a ball of black and gray fur, its eyes still closed. It nuzzled blindly at Becca's bosom as she cradled it, looking for milk amongst her leathers and furs, making a soft sad whimpering sound as it did. Bri reached out a hand hesitantly. "Go on." Becca encouraged. "You can touch him."

She gave the pup one nervous stroke. Then turned to Joanna as she said, "Here you go." Her half-sister placed a second pup in her arms. "There are five of them." Bri sat down in the snow holding the pup to her face. Its fur was soft and warm and the pup licked her cheek as it searched for milk. This made Bri giggle and hug the pup close to her chest.

"Direwolves loose in the realm after so many years," muttered Harriet, master of horses, "I like it not."

"It's a sign." Said Jory the master of the Starks house hold guard.

Lady Stark frowned. "It's just a dead animal Jory." But still she seemed troubled. She walked over to the beast snow crunching under her boots. She walked about the body inspecting it. "Do we know what killed her?"

"There's something in her throat." Becca said proud to have found the answer before her mother even asked for it. "Just under the jaw."

Her mother kneeled down in the snow and groped under the beast. She gave a yank and pulled out what appeared to be part of a shattered antler. There was nearly a foot of it with the tines broken off and wet with blood. Silence fell suddenly over the party as the men and women looked at the antler uneasily, and no one dared speak. Even Bri picked up on their fear yet she did not understand why it was there.

Her mother tossed the antler aside and cleaned her hands in the fresh snow. "I'm surprised she lived long enough to whelp." She said. He voice broke the spell that had settled over the party.

"Maybe she didn't." Jory said. "I've heard tales…Maybe the bitch was already dead when the pups came."

"Born with the dead," Another woman put in, "worse luck."

"No matter," Harriet said, "they'll be dead soon enough anyway." Bri let out a worldless shout of dismay.

"The sooner the better." Thyra Greyjoy agreed. She drew her dagger from her belt. "Give the beast here Bri." The pup squirmed against her chest as if it had heard and understood what was to come.

"No!" Bri cried out fiercely. "It's mine!"

"Put away your dagger Greyjoy." Becca said. For a moment she sounded just as commanding as their mother. As the lady she would someday be. "We will keep these pups."

"It would be a mercy to kill them." Said Hannah, Harriet's daughter.

Bri looked desperately to her mother for rescue but all she got in return was a frown and furrowed brow. "Hannah speaks the truth. Better a quick death by a blade than a slow one of starvation and cold."

"No!" She could feel the tears stinging in her eyes. She looked away not wanting to cry in front of her mother.

Becca resisted stubbornly. "Ser Rodrik's red bitch just a whelped again last week." She said. "A small litter only two pups survived. She would have enough milk for all the pups."

"She'll rip them apart if they try to nurse."

"Lady Stark," Joanna said. It was strange to hear her address their mother like that, so formal. Bri looked to her with desperate hope. "There are five pups." She told her "Three female, two male."

"What of it, Joanna?"

"You have five trueborn children," Joanna continued. "Three daughters and two sons. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my Lady."

Bri saw her mother's expression change and the party exchanged glances. Bri loved Joanna more in that moment than ever before she could have kissed her half-sister for what she had done. Even at ten Bri understood what Joanna had done. For the count to be right Joanna had omitted herself form the list. For, she was a bastard born with the name Snow, the name given to those who have no true name of their own.

Their mother understood as well. "You want no pup for yourself, Joanna?" She asked softly.

"The direwolf is the sigil of House Stark," she pointed out, "and I am no Stark, my lady."

Their lady mother regarded her for a moment thoughtfully. Becca rushed to fill the silence she left, "I'll nurse them myself, Mother." She promised. "I'll soak a towel with warm milk, and give her that to suckle from."

"Me too!" Bri echoed.

The lady weighed her daughters carefully with her eyes for a long moment. "Easy to say, harder to do. I will not have you wasting the servants' time with this. You will feed them yourselves. Is that understood?" Bri nodded eagerly as the pup wriggled in her arms licking her face with its' warm wet tongue.

"You will also train them yourselves as well." Their mother said. " _You_ must train them. The kennelmaster will have nothing to do with these beasts, I promise you that. And god's help you if you neglect them, or brutalize them, or train them badly. These are not dogs to beg for treats or slink away at a kick. A direwolf can rip a man's arm from his shoulder just as easily as a dog can kill a rat. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes, Mother," Bri said.

"Yes," Becca agreed.

"The pups may die anyway in spite of all you do."

"They won't die," Becca said, "we won't _let_ them die."

"Keep them then. Jory, Desmond gather up the other pups. It's time we were back to Winterfell." It wasn't until they were mounted and headed back towards Winterfell when Bri allowed herself to taste the sweet air of victory. By then the pup was snuggled tight beneath her leathers safe and warm for the long trip home. Half way across the bridge Joanna pulled up on the reins of her horse.

"What is it, Joanna?" Their mother asked.

"Can't you hear it?"

Bri could hear the sound of the wind whisper through the trees, the sound of hooves on iron wood planks, and the whimpering of her own hungry pup. But, Joanna was listening to something else.

"There." Joanna said and she swung her horse back around and galloped back across the bridge. She rode back to where the direwolf lay dead swung from the saddle and knelt down in the snow. After a moment she was riding back towards them, smiling. It was a rare thing to see a smile grace Joanna's lips.

"She must have crawled away from the others," Joanna said.

"Or, been driven away," their mother said, looking at the sixth pup. Her fur was as white as fresh fallen snow, where the rest of the litter had been grey and black. Her eyes were as red as the blood of the man who had died that morning. Bri thought it was odd that this pup alone had opened her eyes while the other were still blind.

"An albino," Thyra Greyjoy said with wry amusement. "This one will die even faster than the others."

Joanna Snow gave their mothers ward a long chilling look that even sent a shiver down Bri's spine. "I think not, Greyjoy," she said, "this one belongs to me."


End file.
